


Just Wished You Would Talk

by 0101Binaries01010



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Abuse, Depression, Eating Disorders, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0101Binaries01010/pseuds/0101Binaries01010
Summary: So, on my other story What Goes On In Pony's Head, Dallas helps Pony with his mental health issues. This is a little hint as to what Dallas went through but this story/one-shot does not take place in the same universe.A story in which Dal has some really unhealthy coping mechanisms because of what his father did to him and what he went through in NY.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

_Fucking disappointment! I never want to see you again!_

_Get out of my house you piece of shit!_

_Do you like that? Don't you, you fucking freak_

_You fucking fag!_

_Fatass!_

_Freak!_

I was standing on the Curtis's porch, smoking a cancer stick, those words ringing in my head, never ceasing for just one fucking moment. It's been three days since I've eaten anything, three days, two hours, and seven minutes and its been only three hours since I burned myself with the end of my cancer stick, I should do it again, it felt nice.

_Freak_

_Fag_

_Disappointment_

_No good hood_

_Shit face_

_Ugly_

_Fatass_

My dad hates me, I know that always calling me these names, telling me how disappointed he is in me like I need his fucking approval. The pain from starving myself felt better than cutting, it was always there in the back of my mind, unlike the burn from cutting or burning myself, which only lasted ten or so minutes. 

I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard laughter inside the house, and almost immediately my mind started criticizing me.

_they don't need you, especially Johnny, he fucking hates you, kill yourself already._

Fucking hell, I already am killing myself, starving myself 'til I drop and cutting my thighs and arms so much they look more like fish gills than actual flesh. I didn't know why I even tried anymore, they don't care about me, and Johnny is the only one who's noticed my lack of eating, but he's probably too scared to tell the gang. If only I could actually slit my wrists, I could end this all right now, I wouldn't have to care about rent at Buck's anymore and I wouldn't have to force myself to feel anything, even though it feels like I feel everything all at once. 

I sighed and walked back inside, snuffing my cigarette out with my heel, and as I walked through the door, I didn't even get a glance from any of the guys, not even Johnny. 

_That's because they didn't even notice you have gone, dumbass. You could kill yourself now and they probably wouldn't even notice you have gone, or miss you for that matter._

God fucking dammit! Just shut up! I don't need you right now. I know that they wouldn't miss me, so just leave me alone, I'm working on killing myself already, don't need reminders. 

As I went to go get a glass of water, I saw Johnny glance at me, maybe he noticed I was gone? I just mentally shrugged (If that's even a thing) and continued on my walk to the kitchen, but I got dizzy really fast, it was like someone hit me over the head with a bat and then spun me around fifty times. I just tried to walk straight, but I started seeing black dots spot my vision and I forced myself to pause walking, but then the last thing I saw was the kitchen light flicker a bit and then I blacked out.

________

Johnny's POV

"Dal!" I shouted, grabbing the attention of the gang, "Dal, wakeup!" I shouted, running over to Dal to check for his pulse, but I was soon nudged out of the way by Darry, who checked his pulse and said: "He's got a pulse, but it's slow and he's freezing, we need to get him to the hospital." With that, everyone seemed to snap into action, Steve helped to get Dal up with Darry but Darry assured that he could do it himself, he said that Dal didn't weigh much, which worried me, I had noticed his lack of eating but didn't say anything to the gang, I just thought that money was tight or that he was stressed, but I knew deep down that something was wrong since when did Dal care about money or when was he ever too stressed?

Moments later Darry had set Dal in the back seat of the car and I hopped in next to him, holding him up. Next to me was Ponyboy, it was a tight fit but we managed. Darry was driving and Soda was in the front next to him and I assumed Steve and Two-Bit were taking Two-Bit's car to the hospital. The car ride went by in a blur, the only thing snapping me out of my gaze was Dal talking to himself a bit and shaking (or shivering, I didn't know which), and soon enough, we arrived at the hospital. Darry had us three, Ponyboy and Soda, go inside for help while he got Dal out of the car. "Can we get some help? Our friend fainted and he has a slow pulse and he's really cold" said Soda, "Yes, we'll get a stretcher to him right away" said the nurse, and with that, they were wheeling a stretcher outside to Dal and Darry.

I don't know what time it is, nor do I care, I just wanted Dal to be okay. The doctors haven't given us any information regarding Dallas and it's been chewing at me since we sat down. "Golly, I wish they would just give us information on Dal, we've been here for an hour," said Steve, "Yeah, I think it's been chewing at all of us, Steve, but no news can be good news." Said Darry, "Guys, I'm just gonna say it, but why did Dal collapse? It was obvious he didn't have a heart attack or stroke, so why?" Two-Bit said, and I realized that I was probably the only one who knew about Dal's eating, so I decided that I would share it with the gang, knowing how much Dal would scold me for it later, "Dal hasn't been eating, I noticed about a month ago that Dal never ate around us anymore and I think his dad got a new job in construction instead of trucking, so he's home a lot more." I said, which surprised me since I don't think I've ever talked so much at one time. "How did we not see him not eating? I mean, I knew he didn't eat a lot but not eating entirely? That's new." Soda said, who's been oddly silent and still this entire time.

________

Dallas's POV

God, everything fucking hurt, my arm fucking hurt, my back hurt, my stomach hurt, my arms burned, my thighs burned, I think someones cleaned my cuts, and there's something shoved up my nose, God, I fucking hate this. 

_You fucking failure, this is what you get when you decide to kill yourself slowly._

Yeah, I know, fuck off. I don't wanna hear from you right now, the gang probably took me to the hospital and they've probably already found out about my fucking eating disorder. 

I slowly sat up in bed, wanting to get out, but before I could even grab the covers to throw them off me, a nurse came rushing to my side, "I see you're up already, that's good. You have multiple cuts in you're arms and legs, which we've cleaned and dressed, and you've got a feeding tube in you're nose. Don't try to pull anything out or hurt yourself or I'll have to put you in restraints. The doctor will be in here soon to talk to you about treatments and therapy for you, and you have visitors outside, they say they are your brothers." The nurse said so that's what the thing in my nose was, "Hey lady, do you know how much I weigh? Or why I have a fucking tube up my nose?" I said, angrily, "Well, you weigh only one-hundred-ten pounds, you are severely malnourished so the tube is giving you nutrients. You are severely underweight for your age and height so the doctor has recommended that we tube you. He's also seen you're past records from you're other stays at hospitals in New York, so he's already looking into treatment options." I simply nodded to this, I didn't like the fact that everyone knew everything about me now; I really didn't want the gang to know about my self-harm and eating disorder, I'm supposed to be tuff, but now they'll just see me as someone who starved himself. "Miss? When do you think I can see my brothers?" I asked the nurse, playing along with the brother act, "Whenever you want, I can send them in now if you like?" she said, "Yeah, but can you bring me something to cover up my arms with? I don't want to have to explain the wrappings yet" I said, feeling like I should be nicer to her since it sounds like I'm gonna be here for a while "Will do, but I recommend telling them soon, it'll be a lot easier in the long run" she said, handing me my coat, which felt lighter, I'm assuming they removed everything from it so there was no chance I could kill myself. 

________

Johnny's POV

Soon enough, the doctors told us that we could go see Dal, but Darry had to be taken aside because he was the oldest or something like that. One of the nurses led us down a completely white hallway that smelled out cleaning supplies and elastic. Soon enough, we were outside of Dal's door, but before we went in, a distraught looking Darry and a doctor came over to us to explain what was wrong with Dal, and what the doctor said shocked everyone, "Mr. Winston has a history of anorexia, with three admissions to a hospital in New York and one here, he also has a history of self-harm and burning himself. Right now I would recommend keeping the topics light and I would also recommend treatment for him, but since this is his fourth stay in the hospital for anorexia and only his second for self-harm, I would try outpatient therapy first, and then if that doesn't work then try inpatient. Mr. Curtis, I would recommend speaking to him privately about therapy." With that, the doctor left, leaving us all stunned. Does Dallas have a history of this stuff? He does this to himself on purpose? I'm so confused. "Jesus" Two-Bit spoke, breaking us all out of our heads, "Dallas has a history doing this? Why didn't he tell us? We would've helped him?" Darry said, voice shaking, but keeping himself composed, "It's because he doesn't want us to think he's weak if he has a history with this than there has to be a reason as to why he's doing this." Pony said, and the gang all gave nods in agreement. With that, we opened the door and I stepped inside first, wanting answers, but I wasn't expected to see Dallas in this state at all.

_______

Dallas's POV

As soon as the talking stopped outside the door, I saw the door swing open and Johnny step inside, but quickly paused when he saw me, did I really look that bad?

_What do you think, fatass? You're in a fucking hospital bed, you probably look uglier than you normally do._

I just ignored the voice this time, I was too focused on the gang as they slowly walked into the room, staring at me as they did so. "Hey," I said, breaking the silence, "What'd I miss?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood, but nobody laughed, all looking on with horrified faces, "Dallas, why didn't you just talk to us?" Darry said, "Everyone else has their own problems, shit that they have going on, I didn't want to add on to that," I said, sounding softer than I intended, fuck, I'm getting fucking weak. "Dal, why didn't you just talk? We would've helped you. We don't care that you're depressed, we don't care about you're eating disorder, we just want you to be healthy, not starve yourself to death." Johnny said, which shocked me, he's never said that much to me before, not even when we would talk and hang out at Buck's, "Dal, why are you doing this to yourself?" Two-Bit asked, and this was the question I was dreading to answer, I didn't want the gang to think I'm weak or a fucking scaredy-cat, "My dad got a new job as a construction worker, he's been," I paused for a few seconds, not knowing how to word this, "He's been saying shit to me, tellin' me I'm worthless and all that shit, it just gets to ya after a while. Starvin' myself is a way to control something in my life, it started in New York when I was forced to join a gang, hell, I didn't even want to move to New York, but I was forced to after my ma died." I said, hoping that explained it, "Dal, the doctor told us about you cuttin' yourself and burnin' yourself, too." Soda said, he looked confused, he had tears in his eyes, which surprised me, I thought he was ' _drunk on life'_ but I guess not, "Yeah, I didn't think the doctor would tell y'all about that. If I'm being honest, I didn't even want to tell y'all about any of this yet." I said, but the gang just frowned at me, "You can't just bottle stuff up, Dal. I know you want us to think your tuff and everything but we all have our breaking points." Steve said, which shocked me, he's never sounded this wise, "Dal, it's okay to be weak once, in a while, we all need a break at some point and you can't keep up your walls forever." Pony said, sounding too smart for his age. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't tell y'all sooner, alright? We all have a lot going on and this is what I turn to when I need a break or an escaping point." I said, wanting to just move on, but I could tell the gang wanted more answers than I could probably give them. "Dal, I know you might not know this, but how much do you weigh?" Darry said, "The nurse told me one-hundred-ten pounds, she said I'm malnourished so that's why I've got a feeding tube, don't recommend having a feeding tube, though, feels weird." I said, and the gang just looked at me with shocked faces, "Dal, how long have you been starvin' yourself?" Johnny asked, who's remained rather quiet throughout this entire thing, "Around three months." I said, and the gang just looked at me with sad and disappointed faces. "How long have you gone without eating?" Steve asked, frustration and sadness in his voice, "Three days." I said and I didn't even want to look at the gang, so I just put my head down instead, wondering how long I'll have to go to therapy. When I looked up again though, I was met with Johnny's eyes, which were starting to overflow with tears, and I motioned for him to hug me, and he did; Johnny always gave the best hugs. After a few moments, Johnny pulled back, having composed himself a little more. "I don't want to wreck the moment, but we've gotta figure out therapy and what to do," Darry said, of course, he would say that he's always trying to get stuff done, "I don't wanna go back inpatient, that place fucking sucked and made me feel shittier than I already did. The first time I went into inpatient a lot of the other kids stared at me, and when I questioned my roommate why, he said that its because they 'thought I was too fat to be in that place', fucking assholes." I said, not knowing why I shared that. "Alright, but if you're gonna come back with us, then you gotta work on eating more. I know that it won't be three full meals every day, but just more." Darry said, understanding that I'd never been able to handle that coming out of the hospital. "Deal." I said, wanting nothing more than to just be home. 


	2. To Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gave the call for everyone to come back into the room and we chatted the rest of the day away. I always felt happier around the gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I think I'm only going to be adding around two or three more chapters.

Dallas's POV

I've been in the hospital for a week now. The gang has come to visit me every day, but Johnny visits the most. My dad has only come to visit once and that was before visiting hours, so when the gang got to the hospital, they kicked him out so fast I'm surprised his head didn't spin.

- _flashback-_

I was up and waiting for the gang to come by; There were only twenty-five minutes until visiting hours started and I couldn't wait. I was just sitting in my bed and looking out the window when I heard the door open, but I gave it no thought since the doctors were probably here to take vitals. But when I glanced at the door, there wasn't a doctor standing there, it was my dad. "You son of a bitch. You couldn't have just offed yourself instead of being put into a hospital? Lord knows nobody would miss you. Your friends don't like you and you only have me as your remaining family." My dad said while stepping closer to me, "How did you get here?" I asked panicked. I didn't know what he would do, but I knew what he was capable of. "Aw, is the little tough guy scared? I wonder what everyone would think if they knew that Dallas Winston was in here for a fucking eating disorder; Only girls do that shit. Are you a girl?" My dad said, taunting me, "Listen dad-", "No, you listen here, Dallas. If you tell anyone what I've done to you or if you even utter my name, you're dead. You got it?" He said after cutting my off, "I'll do what I fucking want." I said, a surge of bravery coursing through me, "Now listen here you little shit," He said getting closer, "I mean it, if you tell anyone, you'll be dead by sundown." He said, flicking out his blade and stepping closer, "Listen, just put the blade down, we can just talk." I said while holding my hands out to show I don't have a weapon, "I think I'll do more than just talking." He said coming closer. By now he was practically on my bed, holding a blade to my neck. "Think about it Dallas, one wrong move, one wrong word, and you are dead. I decide whether you live or die right now, and you're odds aren't lookin' too great." He said threateningly, dragging the flat end of the blade against my neck. Right now, I can only hope that the gang will be here soon; It's a Saturday so everyone should be here. I glanced at the clock, _two minutes_ , I repeated over and over, _two minutes_ until I can get help. "What's goin' on Dallas, you scared?" Dad said, "Nah, just thinking about how fucking fast my friends and I are about to kick your ass." I said, hoping that the gang was on their way. "You little shit," Dad said, flicking his blade closed and stuffing it behind my pillow and then grabbing my neck and squeezing, "How do you feel now, huh?" Dad said, "Not to brave." He chuckled, I was clawing at his wrists, trying desperately to get him off. But just as my vision was going dark, the pressure on my neck was gone; I took deep, gasping breathes of air. Then, I heard yelling, "You motherfucker! Get him the fuck out of here!" I heard someone yell, "I'll fucking kill him." Another person said, then I heard the door slam shut. "Hey Dal, you okay?" I heard a voice I now recognized as Johnny say, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little out of breath." I said while finally catching my breath and getting it to a normal speed. "What did he say to you?" Two-Bit asked, "Nothin' important, saying shit like ' _I'll kill you', 'fucking asshole',_ and telling me I should've just offed myself," I said, giving only a short glance in Two-Bit's direction, "You know that bull shit ain't true, right?" Two-Bit asked, his gaze feeling heavy on me, "I know when I'm wanted, and when I'm not, Two-Bit." I said, hoping that they understood, but Two-Bit just looked at me with a sad look, which looked way too unnatural on him since he's always smiling. "I wished he would just leave you alone, you don't deserve half the shit he puts you through." Steve said, "A lot of people don't deserve half the shit they get. I mean, look at us, us greasers are always getting the short end of the stick." I said truthfully. Everyone knows that greasers always get the short end of the stick. That's why we hated Soc's so much, they always seem to get the better hand at life, no matter their character or how many bad things they've done in life. "Hey guys, I wanna talk to Dal alone," Darry said, and the gang just gave him a confused look but they slowly shuffled out of the room to the hallway. "Listen, Dal, I'm getting you're paperwork handled right now, but I gotta know that you're actually going to put in the effort to get better. The doctor told us the first time we visited that you have a history with this stuff, and he's really pressuring me to just put you in a hospital." Darry said, "I can't guarantee that I'll just start eating again, Darry. But I can promise you that I'm going to try." I said truthfully. I know he was nervous about me recovering at home instead of a hospital, but hospitals make it worse; I mean, you can't even shit in peace. "Alright, that's all I ask." Darry said satisfied. He gave the call for everyone to come back into the room and we chatted the rest of the day away. I always felt happier around the gang.

- _End of flashback-_

The gang had left about three hours ago, bidding goodbyes of promising to visit me tomorrow. Right now I feel guilty. I feel guilty that they have to see me like this, that they had to pause their week because of my stupid decisions. My father's words rang out in my head, taunting me, telling me to kill myself, how I'm no good. Deep down I knew these things weren't true; That I have the gang, but they always seem to sneak their way into my head. All of a sudden, I remembered that before he started choking me, he shoved his switchblade behind my pillow. Slowly, I took the switchblade from behind my pillow and flicked it open; It was a really nice, red-handled switchblade, and now that I think about it, it looks a lot like Two-Bits. Slowly, I thought about how much the gang probably hates me; I mean, why wouldn't they? I've interrupted their week, there's probably gonna be hundreds of dollars in hospital bills, they probably just hang-out with me out of sympathy; Who would want to be around someone so weak? Quickly, I brought the switchblade to my wrist and made a long cut across my wrist, pain flaring where I sliced deep enough to hit an artery. Hissing, I put the blade in my other hand and cut the opposite wrist the same way; Slowly, I started to get dizzy and feel light. Is this what it feels like to die? Distantly, I could feel the nurses and doctors putting bandages on my wrists, but I don't know how the knew since I didn't press a button. My mind started blanking out and I fell asleep with only one thought on my mind; The gang. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I did that. I don't really know how to feel about this. There are probably a bunch of mistakes seeing as I've been writing this since about 4:30 and its 6:00 am rn soooo yeah. I hope y'all enjoyed this and leave suggestions on what I should do next, or if you want me to give this a back story or a series.


End file.
